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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26953243">Friendship at Gunpoint</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Panhead20/pseuds/Panhead20'>Panhead20</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Destiny (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>I suppose, Light-Hearted, coercive lunch dates, light Violence, rated T for Drifter's potty mouth, thought it isn't serious at all</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:34:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,543</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26953243</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Panhead20/pseuds/Panhead20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A birthday gift for Scribs, of our lovely little Guardians forcing Drifter to be their friend.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Friendship at Gunpoint</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScribbleBoxFox/gifts">ScribbleBoxFox</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Happy birthday Scribs, enjoy!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>If anyone gave the two Exos' descending into the dingy annex of the Tower any strange looks, they seemed to ignore them. They were clearly Guardians anyway, fully kitted and even still wearing their helmets, and no one was about to question their destination.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They did draw some eyes, however, from the variety of food they were both carrying. The Titan was shouldered with the larger burden, and the Hunter carefully balanced a tray of drinks as they navigated the stairs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One person who certainly didn't expect them was the Drifter, sitting alone in his rented room, leaning against the railing and flicking his excess of jade Gambit coins into a nearby pot. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Clink. Clink. Clink. Clink. Clitangk!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Well </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> didn't sound quite right. He glanced up and saw a rather large Titan cursing as they nursed their stubbed toe, their Hunter companion giving them an incredulous look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why the hell do you live in this joint?" she muttered, limping over and dropping the takeout containers unceremoniously on Drifter's table. "The hallways are way too narrow."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not everyone has shoulder plates as ridiculous as yours." The Hunter pointed out, also dropping her things on the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not to interrupt cuz, but can I ask why you're settin' up a picnic in ol' Drifter's living room?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two Guardians both stopped, having seemingly forgotten he was even there. The Hunter flipped their hood down and yanked off their helmet in one smooth motion, plunking it down next to the drinks and confirming the Drifter's suspicions about who it was: Sol-23, one of his Gambit "regulars," as it were, and a face he didn't necessarily dislike seeing—they were fun to watch in the ring, if nothing else. And that meant the Titan was…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The second clunk of a helmet drew his eye to the other Exo. Yup—Veridian-5, Sol's continual partner. She acted a bit like a bodyguard, if more snarky. Her Ghost was the real asshole, but he didn't come out to play all that often.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...Veri forgot to tell you we were having lunch together, huh?" Sol finally piped up, throwing a glare at their partner. "You </span>
  <em>
    <span>said</span>
  </em>
  <span> you'd let him know when you stopped by last week!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Titan threw up her hands. "I did say it! He...was talking to that one Arcstrider asshole so I just kinda. Yelled it. But I did tell him!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Traveler, you're insufferable!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What was I supposed to do, interrupt?!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes! Yes you absolutely were! You weren't supposed to give him a </span>
  <em>
    <span>choice, </span>
  </em>
  <span>you knew he'd try to weasel out of it like always!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well he isn't doing any weaseling now!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not to interrupt you two 'esteemed Lightbearers,' but…" Drifter cut in, causing the two to jump again. "Why the hell are you trying to get me to eat lunch with you anyway?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sol shrugged, grabbing their drink and slurping it through the straw before answering. "We got sick of you talking about eating Scorn and decided to get you some real food. And, I mean, we're friends right?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That threw the old rogue for a loop. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Friends?</span>
  </em>
  <span> He sure as hell didn't have any of those, not anymore. In fact, the idea was so absurd he just had to laugh. And laugh he did, grabbing the nearby railing and almost keeling over as he let out a guttural chuckle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Friends?" He finally answered. "I wouldn't go </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> far cousin. I appreciate the food but you ain't gotta help out old Drifter."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sol sighed but didn't move. "Shame." they muttered. "Veri, we're gonna have to go with Plan B."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Titan grinned, her mouthparts glowing fiercely. "I </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> like Plan B." she said as her hand drifted down and pulled her stowed hand cannon out from behind her back. She cocked it loudly with her thumb but kept it pointed up at the ceiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're really gonna threaten me into eating with you two?" Drifter raised an eyebrow, hand leaving the railing and floating towards his own gun. A shootout in this confined space wasn't ideal, but he knew he'd come out on top if he had to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I absolutely am." The Titan confirmed, rolling her wrist and lowering the cannon into the firing line, her finger still floating off the trigger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I've seen you work sister. I know you're good. But you think you got what it takes where everyone else has failed?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nah." Her smile grew. "But I don't have to."</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Thunk.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The Drifter felt a fierce, dull blow on the back of his head and realized, very suddenly, that he hadn't kept his eyes on the Hunter, focused very clearly on Veridian's imposing posturing. A stupid mistake. Damn. His vision flickered black and he stumbled forward, stunned but not out of it. The Titan rushed him and he felt her collide with him as everything faded into shades of gray.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was vaguely aware of being moved somewhere—carried or dragged, he couldn't tell. It didn't last very long though, and after a minute, his vision cleared and he was able to sit back up, finding himself discarded on the edge of the landing platform outside his annex. The two Guardians who had assaulted him were there as well, feet dangling over the edge as they cracked open the carryout containers they had brought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Welcome back, sleepyhead." Sol smirked at him as they turned halfway to observe him get back up. They tilted their head off to the side. "Left your food over there. Don't try and run or we'll grab you again."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rogue huffed and grumbled but shambled forward and sat down. They had, perhaps considerately, left his portion a good 6 or 7 feet off to their left, assuming, correctly, that he was likely not thrilled at the prospect of sitting with them after so recently being assaulted. He pulled the lid off the bowl they had left and caught a familiar whiff of the warm ramen he could occasionally smell wafting down the stairs from the upper courtyard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Never one to turn down a free lunch, battery aside, he grabbed his utensils and dug in. The three ate in silence for a bit, only the occasional passing jumpship or slurped drink breaking the comfortable quiet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Drifter slurped up a mouth full of noodles and chewed thoughtfully before swallowing. Try as he might, he found it hard to call this experience unpleasant, though how he had gotten here definitely was. He had rations up on the Derelict, but the pair were right to assume that he had been without a hot meal in a good long while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The more he thought about </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> the less ridiculous their "friends" assertion seemed. They spent a lot of time in Gambit, and by extension, in his annex and wandering the Derelict. Sure, he didn't trust 'em much, but he didn't trust </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span>. They had gotten the drop on him, and could've taken him down easily if they had wanted to (although he suspected his Ghost, that sly bastard, knew their intentions and hadn't interfered on purpose), but they hadn't. In fact, they had </span>
  <em>
    <span>given</span>
  </em>
  <span> him something, even if it was just a bowl of noodles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was that what friends did? It had been a </span>
  <em>
    <span>long</span>
  </em>
  <span> time since he had had anyone to use that term with. The last set were still frozen solid on that damn Taken-infested iceball. He hardly thought that was a decent point of comparison for what a friend </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He finished his drink and looked off over the City. Maybe it wasn't as complicated as he thought. Maybe them being nice was just...being nice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You two are damn busy these days, huh?" He muttered, finally breaking the silence. The pair didn't respond verbally, but he could see the way that they sat, just a little less straight, that they had been. They were tired, worn down. They probably needed the companionship as much as he needed the food.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well hey. You two know I've got my exit plan waitin' in the wings. If this all really hits the fan...you've both got a seat on the Drifter Express outta here. You get me?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Veridian sighed and shot him a look. "You </span>
  <em>
    <span>better</span>
  </em>
  <span> not start running, you little snake. I'll drag you back to Zavala myself."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I ain't running just yet!" He protested. "You young bucks seem to have more of a handle on this than I feared, so I'll stick around. I'm just sayin'—you two got first class tickets."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sol's face plate formed into a small smile. "Yeah, I get you, old man." They stood up and stretched, crumpling up their trash and stuffing it into the carryout bag. "Well that was quite pleasant, don't ya think?" Veri nodded and grabbed the bag shuffling over and holding it out to the Drifter. He hesitated, and deposited his own garbage. The Titan wandered over towards where the strange infected frame was living, looking for a trash can.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sol stretched and watched as the Drifter clambered back to his feet. "So...same time, next week?" they asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Drifter hesitated again. This was...nice. So very few things in his long life were </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice</span>
  </em>
  <span>...he could stand to have a few more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sure thing, cousin. Sure thing."</span>
</p>
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